What do Double Rainbows Mean?
by Dork Overload
Summary: England learns about what a double rainbow means. Contains mild FrUk.


Hello. This is my first story posted on this site and I'm actually a little nervous. I would say be gentle, but then I wouldn't get honest answers in any potential reviews. Constructive criticism, people! It's what makes writing better! So without further ado, Enjoy!

Wait, I lie:

Obligatory Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

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><p>Little England toddled between his two big brothers Ireland and Scotland. He hummed happily to himself as his emerald green eyes gazed into the rain-washed sky. England loved to go on walks after a rainstorm because chances were, there would be a rainbow, and Ireland had told him that he could find leprechauns at the end of a rainbow (forget the gold! England wanted to see the little green men!).<p>

Today, England was in luck, for lo and behold, there were _two_ rainbows!

"Look! Look!" he jumped up and down, tugging his brothers' hands. "Does two rainbows mean _more_ leprechauns?"

Before either Ireland or Scotland could fathom a reply, a golden blond _something_ shot across the path. England shrieked in terror.

Both brothers looked on as young France held England tight in his grasp, nuzzling short, spiky locks. And both brothers agreed they had never heard such terrible cussing mixed with such heartfelt declaration of love.

Many Years Later

'Hey England! Look!" Little America pointed to the sky, hopping from foot to foot. "Two rainbows! Does that mean twice the good luck?"

England barely too a breath to reply before a pair of hands snaked their way under his waistcoat and warm lips brushed against his ear.

It took years of bribes to convince America that he never heard England's undignified scream and never saw his complete inability to escape France's grasp.

World War I

Grimy and utterly exhausted, England watched the first rays of dawn peek over the edge of the trenches where he crouched with his men. The rain had been heavy and constant all night, leaving them almost knee-deep in mud. The brief respite from fighting was the only good thing that had come with the rain.

"I 'spose it can't get much worse," England muttered to himself, green eyes rimmed in red and heavy with the need to sleep.

"Will you look at that?" the surprised voice of a soldier startled the island country into full wakefulness once again. "A pair of rainbows. That ought to be good for something."

"Arthur! There you are!" France's voice sang out, his arms wrapping England in a muddy hug while his lips pressed kisses to England's dirty hair.

England preserved his dignity by beating France with the butt of his rifle and growling eloquent curses. England's soldiers were quite impressed by this display.

World War II

England surveyed the damage done to the city and sighed. It looked like so many others he had passed through; a burnt-out shell. He was too tired to even wince at the feeling of his people's pain as it was multiplied tenfold on his own body. Every dead civilian was a cut across his flesh and his heart, each bombed city a cracked or broken bone. England liked to think he was strong enough to bear it all, but the toll was quickly adding up. It was a wonder that he was still able to stagger down the street. England scowled to himself, wondering when he had become so weak.

His citizens were pointing to something in the sky, and he cursed, bracing himself for another wave of bombs. But as he listened, he found that it was not fear in their voices; it was awe.

A rainbow arced gracefully over the husk of a burnt-out factory, followed by another curving gently over the first. They were so faint that the blues and purples were absent, and only the brilliant red and yellow stood out against the sky. His people were murmuring about good luck and hope and England just shook his head.

"Nonsense," he muttered, rubbing at a sore shoulder through the fabric of his shirt and a layer of bandages. His green eyes slowly lowered from the sight of the rainbows, and he froze at what he saw beneath them.

Dear god, this _wasn't _happening. Of all the people England least wanted to see, this one just _had_ to show up.

England scowled as France drew near with uncertain steps. His blue eyes swept over England's haggard face, the shadows under his eyes, and the multitude of bandages just visible under his clothes.

"What do you want, _Francis?_" England spat out the name like an insult, but France ignored him. Slowly, France closed the distance between them, wrapping a surprised and wary England in a gentle hug.

"I'm sorry, Arthur," Francis whispered with a sigh. "I know that my people cannot be here to help yours. But I thought that at least _I_ could be here for you."

For once, England allowed himself to be held in the warm embrace. But he never said just how grateful he had been for the shoulder to lean on.

World Meeting

England sat in his usual chair, teacup in hand and reviewing his notes while ignoring the muttered conversations around him. He barely glanced up as Germany called the room to order. Instead, he took another sip of hot tea.

"Has anyone seen France?" Germany's voice boomed out. He looked pointedly as Spain and Prussia, both of whom shook their heads, small worried frowns on their faces.

"Then we shall start without…him?" Germany blinked as England glanced out the window, shook his head and held up a hand that bade the German to wait.

Germany craned his neck to look out the window as well, and the other countries followed suit.

"A double rainbow!" Italy clapped excitedly. "How rare!"

"Double rainbow?" Romano scowled, cuffing his brother over the head to silence him. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Aaaaaaaarrrrrrrrthurrrrr!"

England stoically ignored the snickers and laugher of the other countries and took another sip of tea. Aside from the light blush dusting his cheeks, he appeared not to notice France had draped himself over England like some sort of octopus. The Frenchman combed his fingers through England's hair, planting very loud kisses all over his cheeks.

"It means," England calmly explained. "That France is coming."


End file.
